Meeting of Demons
by halfbreedcreature
Summary: BtVS crossover with CSI Las Vegas; Anya visits an old friend. Nick becomes, understandably, confused. Slash. NickGreg; Also archived at Twisting the Hellmouth. R&R!
1. What Can Be and Confusion

Title: Meeting of the Demons  
Author: halfbreedcreature  
Pairings: Nick/Greg, past Anya/Xander.  
Archive: Twisting the Hellmouth  
Ratings: FR13  
Summary: Anya visits an old friend. Nick gets confused. Slash.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and everything you don't.  
Warning: Slash, bad grammar, bad writing, slight cursing.  
Feedback: YES PLEASE! I need improvement.  
Series: None planned  
Dedications: I dedicate this to my laptop, 'cause it totally deserves it with all the crap I put it through.  
Author's Notes: This is both my first CSI fic and BtVS fic. Please be gentle. But not that gentle. I need criticism, people.

Nick frowned. The woman sitting in front of him, calling herself Anyanka (what kind of name was that?), was pushing the limits of his patience. Rambling about demons and vengeance and ex-fiances and humanity, she sounded like a patient in a mental ward. He glanced at Greg, not knowing what to expect from his unpredicable lover, but was none-the-less surprised by what he saw. The ex-lab tech wasn't incredulous, disbelieving or at all surprised. He actually seemed calm, as if this happened every day, or he had heard it all before. Did he known this woman? Greg's sudden question surprised Nick even more.

"Does Xander know about all of this? Last I talked to him, he thought you were going to exact vengeance on him on your own behalf, or something!" The young woman frowned, and looked a little hurt.

"NO! Why on Earth would he think that? D'Hoffron declared a couple of centuries ago that no Vengeance Demon could exact vengeance on their own behalf, and besides, Xander is the most caring, selfless, wonderful man I've met in 1100 years. He deserves someone who can love him back, with every bit of themselves, like Xander loves." She said this in the way that made each statement she made seem obvious, and the only conclusion. Greg smiled in understanding.

"I know that and you know that, but we both know that Xander has next to no self-esteem, so that's what he believes." They both shared at look, completely in agreement. "Although," he added, "I don't think he even got a protection amulet, going back to that self esteem issue. Then again," he continued, "Willow would want to do it, and everyone knows what her control is like." They shared another look, grimaces on their faces.

Please let him say, I'm only joking, Nick pleaded silently. Please god let him say that. The poor Texan didn't understand a word of this conversation. The only times before this when he was completely lost in a conversation was when Grissom was talking, and even then he understood some things. This meeting, however, topped even Gilbert Grissom level of weirdness.

"Well, this has been wonderful Gregoril," she announced suddenly, brightly, "But I really must get going. There's this middle aged woman whose husband was cheating on her with three other women, who are incredibly gorgeous models by the way, and she's in the perfect position for a wish. Just needs a little nudge. And," she added, suddenly anxious. "You won't tell D'Hoffron I was here, right? He hates justice demons that he has no juristriction over." Greg smiled gently, like he was in perfect agreement, butt he had a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Weeeeeeeelll, I'm willing, certainly. But I'm not cheep. I need payment, Anya." The woman pursed her lips, indecisive. "I only want a couple of pounds," he persuaded, "And it's really hard to find this kind of stuff in Vegas." For one, heart-stopping second, Nick thought they were talking about drugs, or something else, equally illegal or destructive.

"Fine," she caved, pouting, "I'll get you some of that horrid coffee. I have no idea what you see in N'bakla blood, Gregoril," Anya grumbled. He smiled brilliantly. Nick frowned at them both, infinitely confused. He had no idea what a N'whatever was, but he certainly understood blood. He was instantly suspicious. Was that what made Greg's coffee so good? Blood? Eww.

While the conversation he was just privy to would confuse Nick for months to come, the next event would astound and astonish Nick for the rest of his life. Anya seemed to scowl and grimace at the same time, and, with a strange whistle, she faded out. Greg shouted out at her just as she disappeared.

"And make sure it's real, not the substitute crap. And talk to Xander, get all this shit straightened out!" He sat back, with a cat-ate-the-canary expression on his face. Nick figured a scowl would permanently be stuck on his face, but he was too irritated to care. When he didn't understand something, he got annoyed. And boy, did he not understand anything about what just happened. In the middle of his once-immaculate living room, no less!

"What the hell was that all about?!" Greg turned to his lover. He smiled strangely, like he was sad, wistful and anticipating all at once.

"Nicky, my love, it's time me and you had a little chat..."

End.

Author's Final Words: If you didn't like it, fine, that's your problem. But I wrote the majority of this story while babysitting, and guess what the stupid five year old does? She distracts me! And I accidentally deleted this chapter, and had to rewrite it. You have no idea how absolutely furious I was. I nearly threw the laptop at her small, crushable head.

Ahem. Anyway, please Review. I would appreciate it.

Yours,

halfbreedcreature


	2. What Was and What Is

**A/N: Don't go expecting updates that are this quick in the future. I'm a finicky person, and like to be contrary just to be contrary, so I can go months without updating. Um, yeah. Just so you know.**

**Chapter 2**

**History of Gregoril and the White Knight's Love Life**

For Greg's whole life he understood that he was different. Not normal. He could change things, make it so a person got exactly what they deserved, or predict what happened at a place an injustice occurred. And when he was angry, or scared, or excited, his eyes glowed a greeny-blue, and his face went all weird, like a raisin. When he found out that that was different, that no one else could do that, Greg was terrified. He didn't want to be different. Or special.

He didn't know his real father, and his mother, when questioned, was closed mouthed and distant. Papa Olaf would disappear at random times, and, although Nana would run interference, Greg noticed the one time he suddenly appeared, and he had these weird horn thingys and purple eyes.

What he never knew was _why _he was different. He was never told the truth.

And then he moved to Sunnydale, California. And met Xander Harris.

Xander told him what he was. He grew to trust Xander, and finally, after this one incident where a neighbour was killed and Greg just knew that the mother did it, he finally got scared enough to show his friend, his first crush really, his true face.

Greg was a demon. A born justice demon.

When he later confronted his family, told them he knew that he was a demon, his mother finally caved. Told him that his father made a deal with a high demon called D'Hoffron about five hundred years ago, became a Justice Demon. She told him that she was a half demon, and then he discovered that Papa Olaf was one of the peaceful demons, that he was visiting a friend – Clem - that one time when Greg saw his true face. Since his father's kind of power was basically a curse, he was born a justice demon. Papa Olaf later told him that his demonic, real name was Gregoril, and then proceeded to warn him not to tell a soul that name, that true names held power, to always just use his nickname.

When Greg told Xander all of this, he just smiled softly and told him that he was still Greg, he just knew a little more about himself than before.

Greg wasn't all that different after all. He just wasn't human. In some weird way, that reassured him. Well, that and Xander.

So now when people called him Gregory, to prove superiority, he silently laughed in his head. It wasn't even his real name.

He never met another Justice Demon until he was hired by Dr. Gil Grissom. Greg figured that weirdness must be a demon trait.

You really couldn't get weirder than an office full of dead bugs and a Billy Big Mouth Bass over the top of a doorway.

* * *

Xander missed Anya so much.

He knew it was entirely his fault that she left – well, his and that stupid demon's – but that didn't mean that he couldn't miss her. She was blunt, talked about their sex life in public, very loudly, and in extreme detail, and she had trouble with day to day activities. But that was part of her charm. She said what she thought, and she thought about sex. It was refreshing. And he loved her.

And now, because of him, she was gone.

He would gladly accept any vengeance from her. He more than deserved it.

Xander roughly pulled himself out of his brooding, and got to his feet. He had a First Evil he had to help thwart.

Maybe he would call Greg after all of this was over. See how Vegas was doing. See if he finally got together with the Texan, and if he finally got out of the lab.

As he turned to the mantel, the only picture he kept of Anya, the one during Halloween, caught his eye. He determinedly avoided it.

_At least I have Spike to annoy,_ Xander comforted himself, conveniently ignoring the real reason he was grateful for Spike. Because he was the King of Denial-land. Yup, denial was his domain. Denial bowed down before him.

God, he was pathetic. Maybe he would visit Vegas instead. Get a date or something. He had to get over Anya. Maybe a date would help with that.

He could dream.

**End.**

**Thanks for reading, mes amis. Review, please!**


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